Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: Harlequin's 12 Books of Christmas Winter 2019 #harlequin #romance



Today we kick off Harlequin's 12 Books of Christmas Winter 2019 Virtual Book Tour! Pick up a few books (links below), sit back in front of a cozy fire and immerse yourself in the moment! Happy Holidays!






A Wedding in December

A wEDDING IN DECEMBER

SARAH MORGAN

This funny, charming and heartwarming new Christmas novel is USA TODAY bestselling author Sarah Morgan at her festive best!

In the snowy perfection of Aspen, the White family gathers for youngest daughter Rosie’s whirlwind Christmas wedding. First to arrive are the bride’s parents, Maggie and Nick. Their daughter’s marriage is a milestone they are determined to celebrate wholeheartedly, but they are hiding a huge secret of their own: they are on the brink of divorce. After living apart for the last six months, the last thing they need is to be trapped together in an irresistibly romantic winter wonderland.

Rosie’s older sister, Katie, is also dreading the wedding. Worried that impulsive, sweet-hearted Rosie is making a mistake, Katie is determined to save her sister from herself! If only the irritatingly good-looking best man, Jordan, would stop interfering with her plans…

Bride-to-be Rosie loves her fiancé but is having serious second thoughts. Except everyone has arrived—how can she tell them she’s not sure? As the big day gets closer, and emotions run even higher, this is one White family Christmas none of them will ever forget!

Excerpt:


The road curved through a narrow valley. Huge walls of granite and limestone rose steeply, silver gray and stark, mostly too steep to hold the snow. Patches of white clung to the less vertiginous sections, and coated the trees.
“This is an impressive place.”
“Welcome to Glenwood Canyon.”
“I can’t imagine how they built this road through the moun­tains.”
“It was a compromise between the engineers and the envi­ronmentalists. It’s one of the main routes through the Rocky Mountains. That’s the Colorado River right there.”
It was spectacular.
She gazed out of the window at the soaring walls of the can­yon. There was something soothing about being in a warm car, looking out at the snowy mountains outside. Her life felt distant, too far away to be more than a niggle of anxiety. For once she had no responsibility, no one relying on her judgment. Jordan was a good driver, confident, not flashy. Not that she had any intention of telling him that. She was a feeling he was a man who already had the true measure of his worth.
“Does this road ever get blocked in winter?”
“It can have its tricky moments. There’s a rest area up ahead at Grizzly Creek. We’ll stop there for a short time. Are you hungry?”
She discovered that she was.
After a hastily eaten snack she headed down to the water with him, her hands wrapped around the drink he’d bought her. The air was fresh and cold, the mountains rising straight up from the river. Snow clung to boulders and the water bubbled past patches of ice.
“I bet that water is cold.”
“Icy.” He stood, legs spread, hands thrust into his pockets. “Dan and I used to spend our summers rafting on this river. Further downriver you have the Shoshone rapids—Tombstone, The Wall and Maneater.”
“Funny, none of those names are tempting me to ask you to take me white-water rafting. I can’t think why.”
“Come back in the summer and I’ll take you. I think you’d enjoy it.”
“What makes you think that? Do I look sporty?”
“No, you look tense. And clinging to the side of a raft while you’re being thrown around in wild water surrounded by breath­taking scenery is a good way of making you forget everything except the moment.”
“I’m going to have to take your word for it.”
“You’re missing out on a real adrenaline rush. It’s pretty thrill­ing.”
She took a sip of coffee, feeling the warmth spread from the cup to her fingers. London, with its gray skies and rain, seemed like a long way away. For the first time in a while she felt half-human. “Thanks but I think I’d prefer to get my thrills else­where.”
He finished his coffee. “You shouldn’t be afraid of adventure.”
“Who says I’m afraid?”

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Amazon → https://amzn.to/2QjfwJe

 Harlequin → https://www.harlequin.com/shop/pages/christmas.html


Sarah Morgan

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sarah Morgan is a USA Today and Sunday Times bestselling author of romance and women’s fiction. She has sold over 18 million copies of her books and her work has received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly, Library Journal and Booklist.

Sarah lives near London, England with her family and when she isn’t writing or reading, she likes to spend time outdoors hiking or riding her mountain bike.

Join Sarah’s mailing list at www.sarahmorgan.com for all book news. For more insight into her writing life follow her on Facebook at www.facebook/AuthorSarahMorgan and on Instagram at @sarahmorganwrites Contact Sarah at sarah@sarahmorgan.com.

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Coming Home for Christmas

COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

RAEANNE THAYNE

Hearts are lighter and wishes burn a little brighter at Christmas…

Elizabeth Hamilton has been lost. Trapped in a tangle of postpartum depression and grief after the death of her beloved parents, she couldn’t quite see the way back to her husband and their two beautiful kids…until a car accident stole away her memories and changed her life. And when she finally remembered the sound of little Cassie’s laugh, the baby powder smell of Bridger and the feel of her husband’s hand in hers, Elizabeth worried that they’d moved on without her. That she’d missed too much. That perhaps she wasn’t the right mother for her kids or wife for Luke, no matter how much she loved them.

But now, seven years later, Luke finds her in a nearby town and brings Elizabeth back home to the family she loves, just in time for Christmas. And being reunited with Luke and her children is better than anything Elizabeth could have imagined. As they all trim the tree and bake cookies, making new holiday memories, Elizabeth and Luke are drawn ever closer. Can the hurt of the past seven years be healed over the course of one Christmas season and bring the Hamiltons the gift of a new beginning.

Excerpt:


Her throat closed with emotions, regret and sorrow and guilt. She had to clear them away to speak. “Why…why didn’t you try to have me legally declared dead?”
“Because I didn’t want to.” The raw emotion in his voice seared through her.
“Luke.”
His name. That was all she could manage through the tangle of emotions.
He gazed down at her, his expression almost…tortured.
One moment he was skewering her with his furious ex­pression; the next he threw his arms around her, yanked her toward him and lowered his mouth to hers.
Shock held her motionless for only a moment. Then the sheer delicious glory of being in his arms again overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss with all the pent-up longing she had held inside her these long years of being alone.
The heat that had always been between them flared, wild and unrestrained. His mouth was hard on hers, fierce, de­manding. Delicious. There was no trace of tenderness, only anger and loss, betrayal and sorrow and desire, all twisted together.
When he finally yanked his mouth away and released her as if she had scorched him, she stumbled backward, her knees drained of all strength. Her soul felt drained, too.
“Does that answer your question?” he asked, his voice raspy and low. “I never stopped hoping you would come back. Even when I was ninety-nine percent certain you were dead, that tiny one percent of hope wanted desperately to be wrong.”
He released a heavy breath and she watched in fascination as he tucked away any trace of emotion, becoming self-contained and expressionless once more.
“Do what you want to the house. Paint or don’t paint. I don’t care. This place means nothing to me anymore. The kids and I have moved on and are happy in our new house. I just want this one sold and out of my life.”
Like her. She meant nothing to him either, that wild, heated kiss notwithstanding. She did her best to blink back tears but was afraid he still saw them.
“I don’t know how much I can do in only one day but I’ll…I’ll try.”
He looked as if he wanted to argue but finally gave her one more long look and headed out the door.
After he left, Elizabeth touched her lips, the long-familiar taste lingering there. Oh, how she had missed him.
She still loved him.
Had never stopped.
She collapsed onto the sagging sofa, unable to contain all the emotions raging through her. She loved Luke and wanted what was best for him. That could never be her. Not then and especially not now, with all her baggage.
She might not be able to be part of his life or their children’s lives, but she could do one small thing for them. She could freshen up this house a little bit, make it more attractive to pro­spective buyers.
It was a small gift, but one she wanted desperately to give them.

ORDER YOUR COPY

Amazon → https://amzn.to/33OudrF

 Harlequin → https://www.harlequin.com/shop/pages/christmas.html

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Raeanne Thayne
#1 Publishers Weekly, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne finds inspiration in the beautiful northern Utah mountains where she lives with her family. Her books have won numerous honors, including seven RITA Award nominations from Romance Writers of America and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews magazine. RaeAnne loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.raeannethayne.com.

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Stealing Kisses in the Snow

STEALING KISSES IN THE SNOw

JO MCNALLY

It’s Christmas in Rendezvous Falls and love’s waiting to be unwrapped…

Single mom Piper Montgomery’s plate is full. Between her two adorable kids, two jobs and a fixer-upper house, she’s so busy she can hardly see straight. But when rugged biker Logan Taggart strolls into the inn where she’s working, she can’t help but stare. He has bad boy written all over him. And with two kids relying on her, that’s the last thing she needs this Christmas.

Rendezvous Falls is nothing but a pit stop for Logan. Once his grandmother is back on her feet and ready to reclaim the inn, Logan can get back on the road. It’s where he belongs, even if his grandmother’s matchmaking book club try to convince him otherwise. Still, there’s something about beautiful spitfire Piper that makes him wonder if family and forever might just be what he needs after all.

But as the holidays draw ever closer, so do Piper and Logan. Could these polar opposites find that all they want this Christmas is each other?

Excerpt:


Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
Piper’s heart hammered as they left the attic, and all those holiday boxes, behind. What was she doing? How could she do this? She couldn’t really do this, could she? Even if was her idea? No, she couldn’t do it. Use a room at the inn for sex with Logan Taggart? There were so many things wrong with this idea. So. Many. Things. It was foolish. It was unprofessional. It was dangerous. She turned to him when they got to the base of the attic stairs.
Logan…” She met his heavy gaze and her breath hitched. He didn’t move as she searched his face. She had a feeling he’d be fine if she said “forget it” and walked away. And he’d be fine if she didn’t. He was heading for South America right after Christmas. She probably wouldn’t leave a ripple in his life either way. But here in this silent, empty inn, he wanted her. And she couldn’t deny how much she needed to feel wanted. She tried her damnedest to remember again why this was a bad idea, but when she opened her mouth, there were no arguments to be found.
“Do you have a lucky number?” she asked.
His brows rose on his forehead. “I’m sorry?”
“Your lucky number? To pick a room?”
He chuckled low and soft. “Babe, whatever room you pick will be my new lucky number.”
She swallowed hard. “Okay. Uh…probably the first floor. It won’t be suspicious if someone sees us on the main floor, and we can hear the bell if someone comes in the lobby. And if we decide to…you know…do it again…the first-floor rooms don’t rent out as quickly as the upper floors, so…”
“Piper.” He shook his head, bemused. “Do you al­ways think out your decisions this carefully? Even the ones about booty calls?”
“Booty calls?” She exclaimed it so loudly the words echoed in the hallway. She slapped her hand over her mouth, then lowered her voice to a hiss. “I’ve never had a booty call in my life!”
Logan’s eyes went dark and hot. “You won’t be able to say that after today. Let’s go.” His smile faded just a bit. “Unless you’ve changed your mind? Is that what all this babbling is about?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “I’m…anxious. Nervous. But no, I haven’t changed my mind. But…maybe we should set some parameters?”
He rolled his eyes. “Look, I know you like to have all your little ducks in a row, but we don’t need param­eters around sex. I got this, trust me.”
“Not about the sex. About…after.” She laid her hand on his forearm. “You’ve literally been around the world, so you’ve probably done this sort of thing a million times.”
Logan barked out a laugh. “A million might be a stretch.”
“You know what I mean.” She waited for him to nod in acknowledgment before continuing. “I haven’t. I want you to know that I won’t try to talk you into being my boyfriend. I know this is just…”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “A shag in the af­ternoon?”
She tried not to smile, but finally gave in. “I don’t know if that sounds any better than a booty call. I want us to be on the same page. It’s just sex…”
Logan put his hand over his heart and pretended to be pained. “I’m hoping it will be a hell of a lot more than ‘just sex.’ Look…” He reached for her hips, pull­ing her closer. He smelled like outdoors and spice and sweat and it was all a bit overwhelming. She focused on his words again. “I get it. No strings. You’ve got the kids and they come first and you don’t want a boyfriend. It’s all good. Whatever you decide is good, babe, but you’re killing me right now. I want you so bad I can’t think straight.”
There was a beat of silence before she pulled away from him. His expression fell until she pulled her mas­ter key from her pocket and waved it at him.
“Let’s see how Room Three feels.”

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Harlequin → https://www.harlequin.com/shop/pages/christmas.html


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jo McNally

I write the same kind of romances I like to read – stories about people facing real-life challenges with real-life consequences. The stories are emotional and character-driven.

I live in coastal North Carolina with 100 pounds of dog and 200 pounds of husband – my slice of the bed is very small. When I’m not writing or reading romance novels (or clinging to the edge of the bed…), I can often be found on the back porch sipping wine with friends while listening to great music. If the weather is absolutely perfect, I might join my husband on the golf course, where I always feel far more competitive than my actual skill-level would suggest.

Jo McNally – Writing Stories of Forever Love

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An Alaskan Christmas

AN ALASKAN CHRISTMAS

JENNIFER SNOw

In Alaska, it’s always a white Christmas—but the sparks flying between two reunited friends could turn it red-hot…

If there’s one gift Erika Sheraton does not want for Christmas, it’s a vacation. Ordered to take time off, the workaholic surgeon reluctantly trades in her scrubs for a ski suit and heads to Wild River, Alaska. Her friend Cassie owns a tour company that offers adventures to fit every visitor. But nothing compares to the adrenaline rush Erika feels on being reunited with Cassie’s brother, Reed Reynolds.
Gone is the buttoned-up girl Reed remembers. His sister’s best friend has blossomed into a strong, skilled, confident woman. She’s exactly what his search-and-rescue team needs—and everything he didn’t know he craved. The gulf between his life in Wild River and her big-city career is wide. But it’s no match for a desire powerful enough to melt two stubborn hearts…

Excerpt:


A fuzzy memory of being the one Reed put to bed flashed in Erika’s mind and her cheeks flamed. He’d carried her inside…had she cuddled into him? Yep.
Just focus on the dog. “What happened?”
“She’s narcoleptic. She could be out for a minute or an hour.”
Was he kidding? “A narcoleptic dog?”
“Yep.”
Okay then…
“I brought you coffee and breakfast,” he said, open­ing the paper bag.
“Why?” Glancing down, she saw her nipples point­ing through the fabric of her thin tank top. She folded her arms across her body. Her bra was draped over the back of the couch. She hadn’t expected visitors.
Reed picked up a coffee and closed the gap between them in two easy strides. “Because, I told you last night that I’m not the kind of guy who has sex with a woman and then doesn’t call.”
Her mouth gaped. No freaking way. It had just been a dream. “We…no…there’s no way…” She shook her head, but a flashback of him laying her down on Cassie’s couch the night before had her panicking slightly.
Nope. There was no way. She was sticking with that. “We didn’t.”
But her confidence wavered as he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. “Final answer?” The intensity in his blue eyes made her shiver. His soft, manly smell­ing cologne made her mouth water slightly as her body stiffened. Shit, if they had, she just might not regret it…
Reed grinned. “You’re right, we didn’t.”
She pushed him away and reached for the coffee. “I knew that.” She took a desperate sip, the hot liquid scorching her tongue and the back of her throat as she forced it down.
“You kissed me, that’s all,” he said with a shrug, opening the bag and taking out a plastic-covered con­tainer.
She scoffed. “You’re so full of sh…” Oh crap, she had kissed him. Reality had somehow blended with her dream, but she was starting to distinguish between the two. She had kissed him. And it was a fantastic kiss… “Oh, that was nothing… And so completely out of char­acter for me.” Damn, she’d really let her guard down the night before.
“Why? Because I’m just a bartender and you’re a brilliant, beautiful surgeon?”
Her cheeks flamed, her mind still caught on beauti­ful. Ignoring the question, she reached for the plate of food piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and toast, but he pulled it back out of reach.
“This is mine.” He took out a small container of what looked like oatmeal and handed it to her. “You said last night you only ate ‘clean’.”
She’d said that? Man, she must have sounded like a complete holier-than-thou asshole. His breakfast looked so good and the greasy food was exactly what she was craving that morning, but she squared her shoulders and accepted her fate. She could always head out for a second breakfast once he left. “The oatmeal’s per­fect.” She opened it and, grabbing the plastic spoon, she forced herself not to gag on it. She normally skipped breakfast and sometimes lunch with her busy sched­ule. But she was on vacation and she planned to eat. A lot. And the faster she could get rid of him, the faster she could get to the breakfast diner on Main Street.
Reed grinned, watching her put another spoonful of the thick, tasteless gunk in her mouth. “Good?”
“Delicious.”


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 Harlequin → https://www.harlequin.com/shop/pages/christmas.html


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jennifer Snow
Jennifer Snow writes contemporary romance fiction for Grand Central Publishing and Harlequin. Her stories range in heat level from sweet to sexy and are set everywhere from big cities to small towns. Her books are light and humorous, but also full of heart, featuring families and communities readers love to visit over and over again.

Originally from Newfoundland, Canada, she now resides in Alberta with her husband and son and three mischievous cats. She is a member of RWA and the Alberta Writers Guild.

She currently publishes psychological thrillers under her pen name J.M. Winchester and writes screenplays and TV shows in her ‘spare’ time.

More information can be found on her website at www.jennifersnowauthor.com
You can also find her at http://www.twitter.com/@jennifersnow18 and http://www.facebook.com/jennifersnowbooks/.

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Cowboy Christmas Redemption

COwBOY CHRISTMAS REDEMPTION

MAISEY YATES

He didn’t want to come home for the holidays—but can an unexpected reunion with a woman from his past make this cowboy’s Christmas merry and bright in this sweet and sizzling novella? 

When Cooper Mason left Gold Valley, Oregon behind him eight years ago, he told himself he wouldn’t be back. But when a Christmas promise sends him home to face his demons, he’ll find that not everything is as he remembers—especially family friend Annabelle Preston, who’s somehow morphed from childhood pest to full-grown, hot-blooded and oh-so-tempting woman.

Growing up, Annabelle had built a lot of dreams around the ruggedly gorgeous Cooper—dreams she’s long ago learned to put behind her. Until a chance encounter with Cooper leads to a night neither can forget, and all the old feelings come blazing back to life. Now, Annabelle has a week to prove there’s more between them than a no-strings holiday fling…and with a little Christmas luck, she just might convince Gold Valley’s favorite cowboy to come home for good.

Excerpt:


“Caleb!” Amelia flung herself off his parents’ front porch and into his arms. He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around him, clinging tightly to him. And then she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. She smacked her hand against his jaw. “Prickly,” she com­plained.
Something in his chest tugged. “Well, you caught me at the end of the day, squirt. I need to shave.”
She looked at him and wrinkled her nose. “Am I going to need to shave someday?”
He laughed. And he was surprised how genuinely light he felt in that moment. “Not likely. Your mom doesn’t have a beard, does she?”
“No,” she said, frowning. “My mom says that you have Christmas trees.”
“I do,” he said. “At least, they’re about to be mine. It’s going to be a whole farm of them.”
“I didn’t know you had Christmas trees on a farm,” she said.
“Well, you can. It’s where most of the Christmas trees from the lots come from.”
“I want to see them.”
He hesitated because he knew that if he took Amelia to see the trees, in all likelihood he would have to take Ellie with him. And really, spending time with Ellie and Amelia in the same space right now was strange and loaded.
“All right,” he said. “But only if your mom’s okay with that.”
“She will be,” Amelia said, full of confidence.
He set her down, and she scampered into the house.
“What am I going to be okay with?”
He turned around and saw Ellie. The sight of her just about set him back on his heels. She looked the same as she always did.
But that was the problem.
“Amelia wants to go out and see the Christmas trees,” he said. “I didn’t figure you would mind. I don’t mind taking her by myself, if you need to go home.”
She lifted her shoulder. “No. I don’t mind going up.”
She started to take a step toward him, and his gut tightened. Then the door opened again, and Amelia re­appeared with her backpack from preschool, and an­other stack of old printer paper that his mother had given her to scribble on.
“Can we ride in Caleb’s truck?”
“Yes,” Ellie said.
“I’m sitting in the middle.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Ellie’s lips, and she narrowed her eyes slightly. The impish expression mak­ing his gut feel hollow, and effortlessly conveying that she had been hoping for the middle seat.
She was flirting with him.
Now, that, he hadn’t expected.
So maybe this whole making her wait thing was re­ally going to work in his favor.


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 Harlequin → https://www.harlequin.com/shop/pages/christmas.html


Maisey Yates

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Maisey Yates lives in rural Oregon with her three children and her husband, whose chiseled jaw and arresting features continue to make her swoon. She feels the epic trek she takes several times a day from her office to her coffee maker is a true example of her pioneer spirit.

In 2009, at the age of twenty-three Maisey sold her first book. Since then it’s been a whirlwind of sexy alpha males and happily ever afters, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Maisey divides her writing time between dark, passionate category romances set just about everywhere on earth and light sexy contemporary romances set practically in her back yard. She believes that she clearly has the best job in the world.

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A Coldwater Christmas

A COLDwATER CHRISTMAS

DELORES FOSSEN

Sometimes a little Christmas magic can rekindle the most unexpected romances…

Sheriff Kace Laramie and his brothers found long-awaited happiness when they moved to Coldwater, Texas, as foster children. But the feel-good story has one bittersweet twist—his brief marriage to local rich girl Jana Parker. When that blew up, Kace vowed never to marry again and has kept Jana mostly off his mind…until she comes back to town, needing his help.

Recently divorced for a second time, Jana just wants to create a good life for her young daughter—and keep her mother from marrying Kace’s gold-digging father. Asking him for help may be wrong given their history. But as the stakes—and their chemistry—make the Christmas season sizzle, Jana knows how much more wrong it would be to let a love this magical slip away again…

Excerpt:


Wincing and rubbing her knee, Jana motioned for Kace to follow her. He did—while rubbing his shoulder.
“I need to tell you I’m sorry,” she said the mo­ment they reached the front door, “and don’t wave that off until you hear what I have to say.” He had indeed been about to wave that off, but Jana just rolled over him and kept talking. “Since I’ve come back to Coldwater, I’ve thrown your life into chaos, and I want you to know that I’ll fix that.”
“Chaos?” he repeated. That seemed to put way too much importance on her return. “I’m just doing my job,” Kace said, opening the door.
Since she frowned and huffed, that obviously wasn’t the response she wanted. “I’m talking about the whole package. You having to see me because of the Smelly Bobs and Peter. You having to see my mother. And now me being your neighbor. But I swear once things settle down, I’ll do my best to stay out of your way. I won’t even come into town unless it’s necessary.”
Hell. It made him feel crappy that she would have to rearrange her life. Especially with a baby. After all, there’d be times when she needed stuff for Mar­ley, and he didn’t want her postponing her errands just because she was worried about running into him.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. The cold air was start­ing to seep in, a reminder that he should finish this conversation and head out. “What happened between us was a long time ago. We’ve both moved on with our lives, and it won’t bother me to run into you.”
Kace was proud of himself. That actually sounded good. A “water under the bridge” outlook.
“Oh,” she muttered.
That put a halt to his heading out plan. For such a little word, it seemed to mean a whole lot. But what?
Kace was trying to figure that out when Jana took a deep breath. One of those soft, silky sounds that took him back to another time, another place. When there was no bridge over the water.
Kace made the mistake of looking at her face, and their gazes practically collided. This time, he was the one who took a deep breath when her attention lowered to his mouth.
His attention lowered to hers, too.
He couldn’t have told anyone how it happened, but suddenly there was no space between Jana and him. One or both of them had closed the distance, and Kace found his hand on the back of her neck. All in all, it wasn’t a bad place for his hand to be because he used it to haul Jana to him. And then he broke every rule in the frickin’ book.
Kace kissed her.

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Amazon → https://amzn.to/2rDGz7D

Harlequin → https://www.harlequin.com/shop/pages/christmas.html


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Delores Fossen

USA Today bestselling author Delores Fossen is a former Air Force officer who’s sold over 100 novels. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award for romantic suspense, the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award and was a finalist for the Rita ®. You can contact the author through her webpage at: www.deloresfossen.com

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Low Country Christmas

LOW COUNTRY CHRISTMAS

LEE TOBIN MCCLAIN

Come home to Safe Haven, where the best Christmas surprises aren’t the ones under the tree.

Holly Gibson has one wish this Christmas season: to find her young niece’s father. And she’s traveled hundreds of miles to the small town of Safe Haven to make that wish come true. But the mysterious Cash O’Dwyer is nothing like she expected. Strong and kind, he makes her heart beat faster. And suddenly that little secret she’s keeping about her sister stirs up all kinds of guilt…

Cash is stunned—and more than a little wary—to discover he’s a father. Having a family of his own was never part of his plan…until sweet baby Penny and her fiercely independent aunt Holly arrive in town. Now he’s trimming trees and stuffing stockings for three. But when the ghosts of Cash’s past threaten the future of his fragile new family, he’ll do whatever it takes to be the father Penny needs—and the man Holly deserves—for more than just the holidays.

Excerpt:


Later that evening, Cash joined with his family talking and laughing as they waited for the giant, ancient oak tree to be lit, as it was every year in mid-November. It was the town’s traditional kickoff to the holiday season.
Holly seemed to be having an okay time, but they’d never gotten the chance to talk because his nieces and nephew wouldn’t leave him alone. And he had to admit, he loved it. He’d shut down the whining of his CFO for the night. What good was owning the company if you couldn’t take a night off to hand out candy to a bunch of kids you loved?
He knew he was too work-focused and impatient, could never be a good father, but he was determined to excel as an uncle. You didn’t have to be the biologi­cal parent to help and influence a kid. He was living proof of that.
He glanced over at Holly now and noticed that she was shifting the baby to her other shoulder. He’d brought her here and he hated to see her looking so tired. Typical thoughtlessness on his part. “Let me hold her for a while,” he said. “You’ve got to be worn out.”
She tilted her head to one side and studied him as if evaluating his worth as a baby-holder. “Okay,” she said, “if she’ll let you. She’s picky.”
“As a lady should be.” Gently, he lifted the baby out of Holly’s arms.
The weight of the child settled something in him, felt good. Little Penny studied him with round blue eyes and then yawned, and when he patted her back, she leaned her head against his shoulder and sucked her hand.
Cash’s heart expanded about three sizes.
Holly looked surprised. “She doesn’t go to ev­eryone.”
He refocused on the here and now. “I’m a baby whisperer,” he said casually, brushing off the often-paid compliment. “Listen, they’ll light the tree any minute now. After that, we can have our talk and I’ll take you back to your hotel. Where are you staying?”
She named a small inland town, not exactly known for tourism, and a motel he’d never heard of.
“How’d you land there?” Cash mostly met women who wanted luxury. Holly was different. Or maybe desperate.
“Cheaper,” she said. “I don’t know how long we’ll need to stay.”
Aha, desperate. But he didn’t have time to think about it because the tree lit up in a blaze of white lights. Gasps and oohs and aahs went through the crowd, and then as more and more lights came on, kids started shouting.
“So pretty,” Holly said, leaning closer. “Look, Penny—pretty!”
The baby stared and waved chubby arms. And for just a moment, he felt like he and this woman and this baby were a little family, doing a holiday tra­dition together, and his chest tightened with crazy longing. It must be the Christmas season that was making him soft and emotional.
He had to toughen up. The crowd was dispers­ing, all the little ones needing home and bed, and he handed the baby back to Holly and hugged ev­eryone goodbye.
“Don’t stay away so long next time,” Yasmin, Liam’s wife, said sternly.
Anna, Sean’s wife, nodded. “The girls miss you when you’re gone,” she said.
They made it sound like he lived here, but he didn’t. He lived in Atlanta. It was just that, with all the weddings and babies and family events in the past two years, he’d spent more and more time here.
Finally, he broke away and ushered Holly toward the car, hitching her diaper bag over his shoulder to lighten her burden a little. Funny how she’d seemed to become part of the group in just this one evening. He was a little reluctant to spoil the sweet, holiday family feeling with a conversation about whatever she wanted from him.
But that was ridiculous; best to get things out into the open right away. “So what did you want to talk to me about?” he asked. “Sorry it took so long, took up your evening.”
“It’s okay,” she said as she shifted the baby from one arm to the other. “I’m glad to find out a little more about you and your family.”
A strange uneasiness gripped him. “Why’s that?” he asked.
She nodded down at Penny. “Because she’s part of the family, too,” she said. “She’s your daughter.”

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lee Tobin McClain

USA Today bestselling author Lee Tobin McClain read Gone with the Wind in the third grade and has been an incurable romantic ever since. When she’s not writing small-town, heartwarming love stories with happy endings, she’s probably snapchatting with her college-student daughter, mediating battles between her goofy goldendoodle and her rescue cat, or teaching aspiring writers in Seton Hill University’s MFA program. She is probably not cleaning her house. For more about Lee, visit her website at www.leetobinmcclain.com.

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Christmas in Winter Valley

CHRISTMAS IN wINTER VALLEY

JODI THOMAS

Ransom Canyon welcomes you back for a Christmas that has everything you’re looking for: romance, family and a whole lot of Texas.

Cooper Holloway would take nature over people any day—especially visiting relatives. That’s why he’s headed for a rustic cabin in remote Winter Valley, where he’ll care for a herd of wild mustangs. But Cooper’s plans are quickly thwarted by the arrival of two unexpected guests: one, a stranger in desperate need of his help, and the other, a very attractive young veterinarian.

Elliott is busy trying to keep Maverick Ranch running smoothly with Cooper gone, which is no easy task with family visiting. And when a long-lost love suddenly reappears in his life, Elliott knows he’ll have more than just books to balance this season.

With a big, chaotic family Christmas around the corner and love blooming in surprising ways, the Holloway men will have to make big choices about the future—just in time for the holidays.

Excerpt:


Finally, he kissed her more gently than any man had ever kissed her. Both knew they were turning down an untraveled road. Having an adventure. Changing their lives, if only by adding one memory.
When he moved his hand beneath her shirt, he whispered, “I like the way you feel, Danielle. It takes a strong woman to do all you’ve done, but there is a softness to you that I sense.”
His fingers brushed just below her bra and hesi­tated.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. She felt suddenly young and shy and hungry for life.
“Which one, the touching or the talking?” he asked with laughter in his tone. “I want to get this right.”
“The touching. We’ve talked enough.”
He nodded in agreement and continued with the touching.
Silently, each knew they were feeling alive for the first time in a long while. She’d seen that his hands were scarred and rough, but they slid over her like silk. She knew she wasn’t beautiful, but the way he touched her made her believe she was to him. She’d had passion a few times and sex she didn’t want more than once, but she’d never had caring. He touched her as if she was a rare treasure.
Gentle on the eyes whispered through her mind like a melody. It might not be beauty, but it was enough.
Long after midnight, when he kissed her one last time at the back door, she whispered, “I’ll put an extra biscuit on your plate at breakfast as an invi­tation to come back some night when I know the house will be quiet.”
His hair was wild, making him seem younger, and his voice was low and rusty. “I hope to be fat by the New Year.”
They were both laughing as he disappeared into the night.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jodi Thomas
New York Times and USA Today’s bestselling author Jodi Thomas has published over 30 books in both the historical romance and contemporary genres, the majority of which are set in her home state of Texas. Publishers Weekly calls her novels “Distinctive…Memorable,” and that in her stories “[tension] rides high, mixed with humor and kisses more passionate than most full-on love scenes.” In 2006, Romance Writers of America (RITA) inducted Thomas into the RWA Hall of Fame for winning her third RITA for THE TEXAN’S REWARD. She also received the National Readers’ Choice Award in 2009 for TWISTED CREEK (2008) and TALL, DARK, AND TEXAN (2008). While continuing to work as a novelist, Thomas also functions as Writer in Residence at the West Texas A&M University campus, where she inspires students and alumni in their own writing pursuits.

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The Giving Heart

THE GIVING HEART

TONI BLAKE

Spend a white Christmas on Summer Island, where the fires are warm and the romance is hotter

Lila Sloan wonders why she ever thought house-sitting for her sister Meg on the remote Summer Island was a good idea. And to make matters worse, local real estate developer Beck Grainger is trying to cut down the beautiful trees that line the property. Lila can’t let this happen; Meg will never forgive her.

Beck can understand Lila’s anger—sort of. The trees are actually on the neighboring property, and the land was zoned for development months ago, so his plans were no secret. But he dislikes being at odds with his friend’s sister, especially because Lila is appealing in every way: loyal, quick-witted and completely stunning.

Lila hates that she’s so attracted to Beck, who seems like a genuinely good man, despite his tree-murdering tendencies. And their chemistry is off the charts. She just wishes he’d let this development go. As Summer Island counts down to a snowy Christmas, Lila and Beck will have to strike a compromise that seems impossible for them both—or risk losing the best thing either of them has ever had.

Excerpt:


THE KISS WAS small, light, warm—a test kiss. And damn—for a kiss so small and tentative, it was the best thing Beck had felt in a long while. Despite the weather outside, it moved through him like heat lightning on a Kentucky summer night.
Given that she kept trying to dislike him so much, though, he had to make sure he wasn’t the only one welcoming that heat—so he drew back a little, met her pretty gaze. Her hazel eyes shone on him, big and round, maybe a little stunned, her rosy lips parted. Surprised—but wanting. Just like him.
So he bent, leaned, lowered another soft kiss to her waiting lips. Heard her quick intake of breath. Maybe at first she’d been surprised it was happening, but now she was clearly only surprised at how good it felt, and how fast.
When she drew her hand away from beneath his on the ornament, he’d thought maybe she was stopping this—but no. Instead, she lifted the same hand to touch his cheek. And the next kiss was deeper, longer, more consuming. No more test kissing—this was turning into the real deal. His hands went to her waist—slender beneath the big sweater she wore—and she released a little gasp as he pulled her closer.
She kissed him back now with all the passion rising up inside him, as well. The kind that slowly makes you stop thinking, measuring, until you just give yourself over to it.
It was the kind of kissing Beck hadn’t had the opportunity to indulge in for longer than he cared to admit. Summer Island had been isolating, and on the few occasions last summer when he’d almost connected with attractive female tourists looking for vacation fun, he’d realized that at thirty-nine, he’d apparently moved past wanting a meaningless, one-night connection—no matter how the rigid part of his anatomy between his legs had protested the decisions.
This, now, seemed like it had all the ingredients to be exactly that—a quick, nonlasting connection. Except for one thing. He liked her. And one more thing. Nothing was telling him to stop. Even if it seemed like an awful idea in ways. She was angry with him. She seemed angry in general. She was Meg’s little sister. Maybe it would spell even more drama.
But she felt too good in his arms. Her lips too soft beneath his hungry mouth. Every little sigh and gasp that left her made him harder. And soon that hardness pressed hotly against the sweet crux of her thighs through their blue jeans as they made out next to the Christmas tree, her palms now at his chest, beginning to knead him through his T-shirt same as if she were a cat, his own hands molded around her hips, learning her curves.
“This changes nothing,” she told him breathlessly between kisses.
His reply came in a rasp. “What do you mean?”
She peered up at him, bit her lip, looking sensual and defiant all at once. “If you think sex is going to make me give you back the key to that bulldozer, or just look the other way about the whole situation, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“I’m not barking up that tree,” he assured her, voice deep and low.
“What tree are you barking up?” More kneading fingers at his chest. The slight scrape of feminine nails. He liked it.
And he tried to think of an answer, but it was difficult. Due to the fingernails, and the way their bodies pressed together below. “Pretty much just the this-feels-good-and-I-want-to-be-inside-you tree.”
Another little gasp. This one she tried to squelch, he could tell—but what he’d just said had excited her even more. “That’s…a good tree.”


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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Toni Blake
Toni Blake’s love of writing began when she won an essay contest in the fifth grade. Soon after, she penned her first novel, nineteen notebook pages long. Since then, Toni has become a RITA™-nominated author of more than twenty contemporary romance novels, her books have received the National Readers Choice Award and Bookseller’s Best Award, and her work has been excerpted in Cosmo. Toni lives in the Midwest and enjoys traveling, crafts, and spending time outdoors. Learn more about Toni and her books at http://www.toniblake.com.

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Christmas from the Heart

CHRISTMAS FROM THE HEART

SHEILA ROBERTS

USA TODAY bestselling author Sheila Roberts takes readers to the charming, snowbound town of Pine River in this irresistible holiday romance.

Sometimes you need to look beyond the big picture to see what really matters

Olivia Berg’s charity, Christmas from the Heart, has helped generations of families in need in Pine River, Washington, but this year might be the end of the road. Hightower Enterprises, one of their biggest donors since way back when Olivia’s grandmother ran the charity, has been taken over by Ebenezer Scrooge the Second, aka CFO Guy Hightower, and he’s declared there will be no more money coming to Christmas from the Heart.

Guy is simply being practical. Hightower Enterprises needs to tighten its belt, and when you don’t have money to spare, you don’t have money to share. You’d think even the pushy Olivia Berg could understand that.

With charitable donations dwindling, Olivia’s Christmas budget depends on Hightower’s contribution. She’s focused her whole life on helping this small town, even putting her love life on hold to support her mission.

When Guy’s Maserati breaks down at the edge of the Cascade foothills, he’s relieved to be rescued by a pretty young woman who drives him to the nearby town of Pine River. Until he realizes his rescuer is none other than Olivia Berg. What’s a Scrooge to do? Plug his nose and eat fruitcake and hope she doesn’t learn his true identity before he can get out of town. What could go wrong?

Excerpt:


He didn’t want to go too far into the future, either. Except maybe he could change it. Maybe he could change her opin­ion of him. His was changing toward her. Olivia Berg, he was coming to realize, was something special.
They played out a few hands, the score remaining close. Until the last hand. Oh yeah, luck was being a lady tonight. He stuck Livi with thirty points and that won the game for him.
She looked stunned. “I can’t believe you beat me.”
“Well, you know what they say. Pride goes before a fall,” he teased.
She stuck out her lower lip. Oh yeah, he was ready for that kiss. “Hey now, no pouting just because I’m not mak­ing breakfast.”
“You got lucky.”
Oh, how he’d like to get lucky. “Okay, time to pay up.”
Her cheeks turned pink again.
“I promise I’ll make it painless,” he murmured with a smile.
He leaned across the table and she did the same. Then he slipped a hand behind her neck and drew her to him. He could smell that peppermint perfume. Her hair was so soft. So were her lips and they tasted like hot chocolate. She sighed into the kiss and he let the moment stretch out, threading his fingers through her hair. Her hands slipped up to the nape of his neck, her fingers soft and warm against his skin.
He could have gone on like that all night, moving them away from the table and out onto that living room couch, deepening their kiss, pulling her close, enjoying the feel of her curves, inhaling her scent. But that wouldn’t have been right. Even what he was doing was sure to put him on Santa’s naughty list for life.
It had been worth it though. He pulled back. “You’re a good loser. And a good kisser,” he added, making her cheeks turn pink. “Now, you have to have had other men tell you that,” he said.
She shrugged.
“There’s been no one special?”
“In college. And Morris and I once, when we were younger. But…” She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m waiting for.”
“The right one?” Someone who deserved her. Which in­stantly disqualified him.
“I guess. How about you?”
“I thought I was in love once. Turned out I was wrong.”
Okay, they were wandering into chick territory. Next they’d be sharing their every heartbreak. He stood. “I’ve had enough sitting. How about a walk?”
She smiled up at him. “I love walking in the snow.”
Of course she did. He sensed a holiday movie scene com­ing up.
Sure enough. The scene came to life when she turned on the Christmas lights and they stepped outside. Between her house and the neighbors, the street looked like a set on the Universal back lot. A light snow was falling to add to the al­ready-thick white coat frosting yards and houses. Rooflines, bushes and trees all dripped with colored lights like jewels on a woman’s neck.
The woman he was with needed no jewels. Her smile spar­kled more than any diamond ever could.

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Sheila Roberts 2

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today best-selling author Sheila Roberts lives in the Pacific Northwest and has three children and one long-suffering husband. Her books have been printed in a many different languages. Her Christmas perrenial “On Strike for Christmas” was made into a movie for the Lifetime Channel and her novel “The Nine Lives of Christmas” was made into a movie for Hallmark. When she’s not playing with girlfriends or on the tennis court Sheila can be found writing about those things dear to women’s hearts:family, friends, and chocolate.

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Christmas in Silver Springs

CHRISTMAS IN SILVER SPRINGS

BRENDA NOVAK

Come home to Silver Springs for the holidays, where broken hearts learn to love again…together. 

So much for forever. When Harper Devlin’s rock star husband ditches her on his way to the top, she takes her two daughters to her sister’s place in Silver Springs for the holidays, hoping family can heal her broken heart. But comfort comes in unexpected places when she crosses paths with local Tobias Richardson.

The moment Tobias spots Harper, he recognizes a sadness he knows all too well. After spending thirteen years in prison paying for his regretful past, Tobias is ready to make amends, and maybe helping Harper is the way to do it. But offering her a shoulder to cry on ignites a powerful attraction and a desire neither saw coming.

Fearing her reaction, Tobias doesn’t reveal his checkered past. He’s falling hard, and if Harper finds out, he’ll lose her for good, especially because her famous ex is now trying to win her back. Secrets have a way of coming out, but maybe this Christmas will bring Tobias the forgiveness—and the love—he deserves.

Excerpt:


When Tobias woke up, light was streaming through the kitchen window, the only window without a blind, and the TV was off. He couldn’t remember turning it off, but he figured he must have—until he grew alert enough to realize he wasn’t alone. Harper hadn’t gone into the bedroom after the movie ended. She was right there, snuggled up against him, her head on his shoulder.
He needed to change his position. His foot had gone to sleep. But he was reluctant to move. Her hand rested on his bare chest and her leg was slung over his.
There wasn’t any other way for them to fit on the narrow couch, so he told himself not to get too excited. It probably didn’t mean a whole lot. But her openness and trust were even more intoxicating than the weight of her pressing him into the cushions.
His arm tightened around her as the desire to kiss her rose inside him. He’d kissed quite a few girls when he was a kid. Since he’d had little adult super­vision, and he’d seen his mother making out so many times and with so many different men, he’d become sexually aware early. But he hadn’t been with many women since being released from prison. He’d decided he needed to heal first, get on his feet so he’d have something to offer a partner. And if he ever wanted to be liked in this place, he had to be careful. Otherwise, his actions would reflect poorly on his brother—and Aiyana Turner, since she’d been kind enough to give him a job. So there was that, too.
Besides, he’d known that getting involved too soon, or with the wrong person, could destroy his peace of mind quicker than anything else. He’d seen it happen with his mother far too many times. So after breaking things off with Tonya, he’d been with only one other woman in the past five months—a one-night stand he’d later regretted. After calling him incessantly for three weeks, the woman had shown up out of the blue, despite what he’d already told her on the phone, and wound up sobbing on his front doorstep when he had to reiterate that he wasn’t interested in continuing the relationship.
Harper stirred and raised her head. As soon as she saw that he was awake, their eyes met, and when she moved her leg, he knew she could feel his erection.
He held his breath, waiting to see how she’d react. He thought she should get off him and move away in a hurry. Being so close to her, and in this particular position, he wasn’t feeling much self-control.
But she didn’t.
That was sort of an invitation, wasn’t it?
He lowered his gaze to her lips. Surely one kiss couldn’t hurt.

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Brenda Novak

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Join Brenda Novak’s Online Book Group on Facebook–http://www.facebook.com/groups/brendanovaksbookgroup/. They’re currently reading CHRISTMAS IN SILVER SPRINGS, the next book in the Silver Springs series. Get an autographed copy in one of Brenda’s popular Brenda Novak Book Boxes: http://www.brendanovak.com/store/

It was a shocking experience that jump-started Brenda Novak’s career as a bestselling author–she caught her day-care provider drugging her children with cough syrup to get them to sleep all day. That was when Brenda decided she needed to quit her job as a loan officer and help make a living from home.

“When I first got the idea to become a novelist, it took me five years to teach myself the craft and finish my first book,” Brenda says. But she sold that book, and the rest is history. Her novels have made the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists and won many awards, including eight Rita nominations, the Book Buyer’s Best, the Book Seller’s Best, the Silver Bullet and the National Reader’s Choice Award.

Brenda and her husband, Ted, live in Sacramento and are proud parents of five children–three girls and two boys. When she’s not spending time with her family or writing, Brenda is usually raising funds for diabetes research (her youngest son has this disease). So far, Brenda has raised $2.6 million!

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One Christmas Eve

ONE CHRISTMAS EVE

SHANNON STACEY

They couldn’t be more different. Or more perfect for each other. 

New York Times bestselling author Shannon Stacey returns with a warm and cozy opposites-attract Christmas story.

Zoe Randall is busy living her life as she damn well pleases. She’s back in her favorite town, her divorce in her rearview mirror, and living out her childhood dream of running a bookstore with her cousin. She has no interest in the uptight nerd who opened his boring-ass business next to her shop…until he complains about one of her sexy window displays.

Then it’s game on.

Preston Wheeler knows he takes life a little too seriously. But when the saucy bookseller next door starts pushing his buttons, he can feel that changing. Beautiful, vivacious Zoe challenges him in all the best ways, and soon he’s pushing her buttons right back: teasing and flirting all the way through the holiday season.

As Preston loosens up and Zoe is treated to the man behind the suit (particularly his forearms), she realizes she’s more interested than she cares to admit. And Preston comes to see the beauty—the absolute delight—in adding Zoe’s bright splashes of color to his once very black-and-white existence.
This book is approximately 34,000 words

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

Excerpt:


Don’t be disgusting, Zoe.
Preston still couldn’t get those words out of his head. And the reason for that varied depending on the time of day it was.
During daylight hours—even when he’d been handling meetings and finalizing some real estate things in Boston—he’d mull over the statement because it might help explain why Zoe had been so prickly when he reacted badly to the sexy window display. His disapproval had been strictly for the actual display, but she’d obviously been deeply hurt by a man who’d been judgmental about her sexuality.
At night, when he should be sleeping, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what exactly Zoe Randall wanted to do that could be classified as disgusting.
If anybody ever asked him, he would say he’d never had an overly active imagination. But when it came to Zoe and sex and picturing doing all manner of things with her, he’d found out his imagination was capable of being not only overly active, but extremely creative.
It made sitting around the small living room with her family on Thanksgiving Day pretty awkward for him, and the discomfort wasn’t just from the third helping of macaroni and cheese and sampling four different pies, or not having an idea what was happening in the football game on TV. He tried to focus on the sports, to get his mind off her, but he was so lost he couldn’t invest in either team. During a break in the play, everybody got up to refill their drinks and pick at the desserts, and Preston used the guest bathroom off the back hall. When he came back to the kitchen, Zoe was alone, covering the desserts with plastic wrap.
“Need some help?” he asked, walking over to the table to stand next to her.
“I’m about done.” She licked apple filling off her finger, which made every muscle in his body tense in response, and then turned to face him. They were so close, she had to tip her head up to look up at him and everything but the urge to kiss her faded away.
She reached up and tucked her finger into the opening at his shirt collar, so her fingertip touched his throat, making him swallow hard. “No tie. Top button unbuttoned. Is this your casual look?”
He nodded, not sure he could actually speak until he cleared this throat. “I figured the suit was a bit much for Thanksgiving.”
When she tugged a little at the button her finger was hooked over, he closed the gap between them, putting his hands on her hips. His brain was short-circuiting and he wanted to make sure they were on the same page. “What are we doing right now?”
“Surrendering to the inevitable?”
“Yes.” He barely had time to whisper the word before their lips met and the world shifted under his feet.
As his mouth devoured hers, his hands skimmed over her back and pressed her even closer before he went back to the delicious curve of her hips. She tasted like sweet apple pie and he dipped his tongue between her lips, needing more.





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Shannon Stacey

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Shannon Stacey lives with her husband and two sons in New England, where her two favorite activities are writing stories of happily ever after and riding her four-wheeler. From May to November, the Stacey family spends their weekends on their ATVs, making loads of muddy laundry to keep Shannon busy when she’s not at her computer. She prefers writing to laundry, however, and considers herself lucky she got to be an author when she grew up.

You can contact Shannon through her website, http://shannonstacey.com, where she has maintains an almost daily blog, or visit her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/shannonstacey, her Facebook page, http://facebook.com/shannonstacey.authorpage, or email her at shannon@shannonstacey.com.

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Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: The Courier by Gordon J. Campbell @GCampbellGordon #thriller


* The Courier *

* Gordon J. Campbell *

* Thriller *


An expatriate businessman, Gregg Westwood, leaves the Officers’ Club at an American Air Base in Japan unaware about the impression he’s made on two intelligence agents. They sized him up as someone with potential for strategic deployment, and more importantly, he’s under the radar.
Gregg’s exploits start with what he thinks is a one-off assignment as a courier, and the straightforward task spirals out of control. He’s forced to rise to the occasion and use every resource available to survive. Even his family is jeopardized which forces him to return to Japan to settle scores.

The Courier is one man’s struggle to fight for survival in a world that he’s not been trained for and where violence and retribution are the names of the game.

Praise:

“The Bottom Line: One of the year’s best thrillers.”
–BestThrillers.com  

“With such fine attention to detail in creating some amazing scenes, I give The Courier 4 out of 4 stars. Campbell creates an amazing and well-edited adventure that could even someday work on the big screen. Readers that enjoy action adventures or thrillers will likely enjoy this one as well.”
–Official review by Kendra M Parker, OnlineBookClub.org

“The Courier is an exciting ride from start to finish. I couldn’t put it down and wanted more when it finished.”
–Gyle Graham, entrepreneur and longtime Tokyo expatriate

“The Courier would transform well from a thriller novel to an action movie.”
–Michael Harrison, marketing expert and martial artist

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______________________

TEASER




______________________

EXCERPT

The taxi bounced over the speed bump and splashed through a steaming puddle of rainwater remaining from a summer shower as it sped toward the front entrance of the Ambassador Hotel. It jerked to a stop, and a hotel employee dressed in a tan-colored suit and red necktie opened the taxi’s door while the customer in the back seat all but threw his cab fare at the driver. The man adjusted his camp shirt to conceal his German-made SIG Sauer P226 and stepped from the car. He handed the doorman a fifty-baht tip and walked several yards away before a thank-you could be uttered.

The assassin was built well for his profession with a trim and muscular frame. His average height combined with dark hair and brown eyes favoring his Japanese heritage granted valued anonymity when working in Asia. He turned left and walked up the crowded and poorly lit incline while maneuvering past street food stalls busy with patrons. An old woman was cooking beef and noodles in a wok.

Hot oil bubbled, and the spicy aroma was strong and appealing. A teenage girl used a wooden pestle and pounded on vegetables and red chilies in a large mortar. Several Thais and a few tourists sat on plastic stools around small tin tables enjoying the street cuisine. The smell of lemongrass and the coriander herb essential to Thai cooking brought back memories of his sniper training in the jungles of Chiang Mai Province when he was addressed as Sergeant Jim Takada.

The assassin hadn’t used his name given at birth in more than a decade and was presently known by colleagues as Pierre Marron. Dozens of taxicabs and bike taxis were parked in a line along the curb beyond the food stalls. One driver caught his eye. “Need a ride? Can I take you to see young sexy girls and maybe you want sex show? You want boys?” Marron ignored the staccato offers and carried on up the street to Sukhumvit Road where he again turned left.

Marron spotted the Blue Moon Restaurant’s neon sign flashing on and off a block away, and he pulled behind a street vendor’s cart full of counterfeit Major League Baseball caps. He purchased a black Chicago Cubs cap and replaced the plain white hat he’d been wearing. He observed the streets while tossing the old headwear into a trash can.

There was nothing across the road in the south, but a young Caucasian man was cutting in and out of the crowd and moving toward him with speed from the east. Marron considered the best defensive measures and swiveled his head to identify other potential threats. He relaxed when the young man stopped in front of an ice cream shop where two Thai women welcomed him with hugs and kisses. The threesome entered the shop, and the gunman walked to the Blue Moon.

Marron let himself into the after-hours club and sat down while wondering why he’d allowed himself to break his number-one rule. “Look out for number one,” he muttered. He was waiting to meet an informant with data key to the next operation. It was an annoying and unprecedented request with potential risk. “Was he the only gun in town?”

The detour from protocol had the assassin on edge, and he contemplated the implications of his orders to hold in place a moment before brushing the questions aside to run a check on the room. Nothing waved a red flag, and he forced a smile when a waitress approached him. He ordered a Singha Draft and scanned the tables placed outside the restaurant for those who didn’t mind the heat and humidity.

They were empty, and the main air-conditioned room where he sat was less than half-full. He spent hours in places like this one in countries once classified as the third world. He wondered where he found the patience to stay in place. The last project was complete, and he was ready to leave Bangkok. His hours of preparation had paid off as they always did. He had memorized a checklist, which included visualizing the entry and exit points, practicing local accents, and readying equipment. Readiness was everything, and people in his profession knew awareness of the details kept you alive. “What am I doing here?” The words came out of his mouth as if spit by the assassin.

The Blue Moon would get busy over the next hour with the arrival of young girls and some boys released from work in the entertainment district. They’d join the wealthy foreign tourists, called “farang,” and offer their professional company. The default demand from the scantily dressed and heavily made-up children of the night was at the least a free drink or a bite to eat when their services were refused.

Marron’s location near the rear fire-exit doors offered a peripheral view of everything and everyone in the room. His language skills were impressive, speaking flawless Thai with proficiency in several other Asian languages. Another prerequisite for his line of work was patience, and he’d reached its limit. He stood up readying to leave as his burner phone vibrated in his pocket. Marron answered by offering the operation code of the day, “Vincent.”

“It’s Theo. Get out now. You’ve been compromised and must evacuate,” said the voice.
The threat was confirmed as soon as he stepped near the back door of the Blue Moon. Both routes out of the alley were blocked by motorbikes staggered in gauntlet formation. Marron hesitated for a heartbeat and turned toward the bar’s front door to find a pair of men dressed in security uniforms blocking the main exit.
Marron turned away from the rent-a-cops and stepped into the lane. He walked away from the direction of the busy Sukhumvit Road while removing his SIG Sauer from beneath his shirt. He pulled a silencer from his pocket and fastened it onto the handgun with practiced dexterity. Clouds moved across the sky, shading the alley from the moonlight. The darkened side street was subject to faulty and crackling back-alley lighting and shadows from buildings flanking the corridor.
He stopped thirty yards from the small pack of bikes and assessed the four sun-blackened and raggedly dressed young men. They straddled their bikes, facing into the alley toward Marron.
Their posture and unconcealed interest in Marron telegraphed the gang’s intent, and they stood between him and his objective. A polite “excuse me” wasn’t going to get him past the thugs. His focus sharpened and his mind and body began to mesh. Marron charted the course of every move necessary to escape from the ambush. The professional killer controlled his breathing and heartbeat, remaining calm when he felt the adrenaline spike through his body.
His mind’s peaceful state allowed a clear perspective, and he scanned the thugs, making an instant assessment for the impending engagement. Two of the bikers left their jackets open with firearms concealed under their vests. The other two grasped their bike handlebars with one hand and held blades exposed against their legs with the other.
Marron jogged toward the bikers, forcing two of the rough young men to kick the starter pedals on their bikes. The armed thugs fumbled and pulled at the weapons held tightly against their chests by their vests. Marron’s SIG Sauer spat out two muffled shots, and he moved with the speed and agility of an elite athlete. The sound resonating around the concrete walls resembled the retort of a child’s cap gun. Bloody red mist filled the air, and the two bikers’ bodies slammed to the asphalt with their weapons remaining forever concealed and useless.
The young thugs armed only with blades started maneuvering their bikes one-handed to escape. Marron sighted on the first and fired then moved his aim to the second to deliver another fatal round. The hollow-point bullets penetrated their chests and erupted, finishing the skirmish in less than fifteen seconds. Brass shell casings fell to the ground and bounced on the road. Their metallic ring reminded Marron to scoop them up to drop in his pants’ pockets.
He analyzed the scene with a microsecond-long glance and confirmed the four deaths. The men waiting on motorbikes at the Sukhumvit Road entrance seemed frozen in shock. The rent-a-cops stepped into the alley from the bar’s exit and dropped to the ground when Marron fired one shot in their direction.
No further action was required as most of the bikers rode away toward Sukhumvit Road. The others dropped to the ground and crawled for cover while the rent-a-cops dashed back into the bar. The hesitation allowed Marron time to snatch a motorcycle from one of the shell-shocked bikers. He stomped on the kick starter, and the bike’s engine roared to life.
The assassin maneuvered around two corpses before turning the throttle and accelerating down the narrow alleyway, which emptied onto a thoroughfare allowing him to increase speed and blend into traffic. Marron slowed and positioned himself behind a family of three commuting home on a small motor scooter. He blended into the traffic, becoming another piece of the Bangkok community in motion.


 

______________________

ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Gordon Campbell is a Winnipeg born Canadian who’s spent most of his life in Japan. He’s worked as an English teacher, a market entry consultant with a focus on the medical and sporting goods industries, and as a sales director for a corporation with multiple product lines.

He’s presently working on the second novel of a series initiated with The Courier, and its protagonist, Gregg Westwood.

Gordon leans on his experiences built around decades working and traveling in Asia. He’s trained at several karate dojos, run full marathons, and skied black diamond hills in the Japanese Alps.

He played American football at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver and started in the Canadian championship game known as the Vanier Cup. Gordon is a member of Psi Upsilon Fraternity, Sinim Masonic Lodge, and the Tokyo Valley of the AASR.

When he’s not writing, working, attending one of his daughter’s vocal concerts, pumping iron, or at a lodge meeting, you’ll find him dining with his wife Mako at their favorite local bistro.

website & Social links

Website → https://www.gordonjcampbell.com/

Facebook → https://www.facebook.com/gordonjcampbellauthor/

Twitter → https://twitter.com/GcampbellGordon



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Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: Spirits of the Western Wild by David Schaub & Roger Vizard @moviemethods #mystery #comedy

* Spirits of the western wild *

* David Schaub & Roger Vizard *

* Adventure/Mystery/Comedy *


Title: Spirits of the Western Wild
Authors: David Schaub & Roger Vizard
Publisher: Independent
Genre: Adventure / Mystery / Comedy

This mystical adventure follows a young adventure-seeker named Luther McCleron on a westward journey to learn more about his Grandfather. A series of fateful missteps take Luther far from his destination to a disheveled little town under the tyranny of a crooked sheriff named Big Willie. It’s here that Luther comes face-to-face with the legendary ghost of Monty: a curmudgeonly ghost who refuses to believe he’s dead. Luther just wants to get back to his quest, but Monty thwarts his plans by using Luther to take out his vengeance on Big Willie.

Through a catastrophic string of events, Luther and Monty find themselves hopelessly entangled in a combative partnership that escalates to the breaking point. Only by reconciling their differences are they able to uncover the profound connections that weave their fates together.

A mysterious book of premonitions, an ominous crow, and ancient Indian drive the mystical tone of this world; conjuring spiritual forces to help steer Luther on his journey through this western “twilight zone.”

All the loose ends resolve in a satisfying story of redemption, loyalty and ascension while exploring the mysterious nature of fate and destiny. Was all of this a coincidence? Or are we guided by ancient “spirits on the wind” that nudge and steer us along our path to assure that we arrive safely at our intended destination in the end?

5 out of 5 stars
 A fantastic and Immersive adventure for everyone. 
What a wonderful audio book and what a pleasure it was to be on this journey. Not only the adventure was captivating but also everything around it. The sounds effect and voices really bring it all together, you almost feel like you are right there witnessing all this first hand. The production quality is something I have never heard before. Very well done and I highly recommend it.

ORDER YOUR COPY

Amazon → https://amzn.to/2qsxtKC

______________________

TEASER




______________________

EXCERPT

It's eerily quiet here, aside from the monotonous sound of a squeaking windmill, long detached from the rusted pump that feeds the wooden water
tower.
Dilapidated wooden structures are mixed with colonial Spanish architecture.  Ominous religious relics are awash in the orange glow of twilight -- home of the classic Spaghetti Western.
 
Jasper leads the way, mumbling nonsensical gibberish to himself.   
Luther tags along cautiously -- unaware of a stoic old Indian watching from the shadows of the abandoned post office.  This is Kickapoo -- eyes barely discernible inside the ancient crevices of his face.  From under his poncho, Kickapoo radiates the calm tranquility of an ancient spirit.  All-knowing -- silent and still -- moving only as much as required to breathe.
A small flourish twists overhead -- a remnant of the storm -- and a page from Luther's lost book swirls in and settles at Kickapoo's feet.
PUSH IN on the header:  “CHAPTER 2: THE DELIVERANCE.”
Kickapoo gives an appreciative nod skyward.  The plan is unfolding...

 

______________________

TEASER




ABOUT THE AUTHORs


David Schaub is a writer and Academy Award ® nominated Animation Supervisor working in the film industry for more than 25 years. In 2019 he produced and directed the audio adaptation of SPIRITS OF THE WESTERN WILD.  He also developed STORY COMPASS® smartphone app for screenwriters (www.moviemethods.com) in 2017.

Schaub received Oscar nomination for animation in Tim Burton’s ALICE IN WONDERLAND (Disney), along with nominations for BAFTA Award, Saturn Award and Critic’s Choice Award, and won the Golden Satellite Award for Best Visual Effects for his team’s work on the film.

HEAD ANIMATION on Sony Picture’s SURFS UP – recognized with two Annie Awards among its ten nominations including Academy Award nomination and four Visual Effects Society (VES) award nominations.

ANIMATION DIRECTOR on AMAZING SPIDERMAN 2 (2014), CHRONICLES OF NARNIA (Disney), I AM LEGEND (Warner Bros.) and LEAD ANIMATOR on STUART LITTLE 1 & 2, EVOLUTION, CAST AWAY, GODZILLA, PATCH ADAMS and more.

ANIMATION DIRECTOR – Universal’s award-winning JURASSIC WORLD EXPEDITION (2019) VR EXPERIENCE. Exploring cinematic potential of virtual reality.

website & Social links

Website → https://www.dschaub2.com/

Facebook → https://www.facebook.com/dschaub2writer

Goodreads → https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19662596.David_Schaub


Roger Vizard is a writer and self-taught artist. He was accepted into the animation program at Sheridan College in1987, then worked at Sullivan Bluth Studios in Ireland, then as an animation apprentice on “WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT” at Richard Williams’ studio in London.  He later became Williams’ assistant animator on “THIEF AND THE COBBLER.”

After several years working in Europe at studios like Gerhard Hahn in Germany and A-films in Denmark, he moved to Los Angeles in 1993 to work as a story board artist on the first season of Sonic the Hedgehog, then rolled back into animation again after that.  He successfully made the transition to from 2D to CGI on “STUART LITTLE 2” in 2001, and since that time have worked non-stop at animation/VFX studios in Los Angeles.

website

Website → https://www.rvizard.com/


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Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: Panicles by Richard Robbins #literaryfiction


* Panicles *

* Richard Robbins *

* Literary Fiction *



Is it better to take the risk and pursue the glory of fame and fortune, or to live a simpler, more grounded life?

“Richard Robbins has presented a cast of interesting characters, and each one is fully explored. The plot engages the reader from the first page to the last. The writing style is fast-paced and flows smoothly. Author Richard Robbins has penned a captivating novel in Panicles. A fascinating read!” ~ Readers’ Favorite Book Reviews, Deborah Lloyd (5 STARS)

Follow the fates of two families, one wealthy and powerful, the other blue collar, from a chance meeting at a Florida poolside, to the highest levels of politics and power. This sweeping saga of love, war, money, and power leaves each family weighing their duty to their family versus service to their country.

It all leads to a fateful choice—a sacrifice—which could change the course of history.
EVOLVED PUBLISHING PRESENTS a contemporary literary exploration of two very different families, with their ties to politics, power and influence, and to each other. [DRM-Free]

Panicles will make you think, make you cry, make you laugh and smile and keep you reading until the very end.” ~ Readers’ Favorite Book Reviews, Trudi LoPreto (5 STARS)

Panicles is a novel that invites reflection with its subtle and significant meaning… Connections, effects, and a great storyline make Panicles a remarkable novel from many points of view.” ~ Readers’ Favorite Book Reviews, Astrid Iustulin (5 STARS)

Books by Richard Robbins:

  • Love, Loss, and Lagniappe
  • Panicles
  • The Tormenting Beauty of Empathy (Coming 2020)

cLICK BELOw TO ORDER YOUR COPY!

Amazon → https://amzn.to/37wyWjR

 Barnes & Noble → https://bit.ly/2qGgPax

______________________

TEASER





______________________

EXCERPT

“I agree, Mr. Murnane. Both of your sons are exceptional, but Robert never struck me as someone who’d want to serve in elected office. He seems happy practicing law, and he has a strong commitment to his family. Elizabeth is an equal partner in their marriage, and they’ve just had a daughter, Emily, to which he seems quite devoted. Do you think he’d want that sort of life? The spotlight, the scrutiny, the hours, the travel?”
“He will. Even if he’s not certain, I’ll make sure of it. Sometimes a father knows his son better than the son knows himself. With his gifts, it’s his responsibility to serve. He’ll come around. It may not be now, it may not be soon, but one day he’ll decide to run for office. Oh, he’ll go along with his life, practicing law, spending time with his family, going to soccer practices and PTA meetings like that’s all there is to life. But one day, it’ll hit him, and he’ll decide to fulfill his destiny. Either he’ll come to me and let me know, or I’ll come to him and tell him that it’s time. But before too long, you’ll see a Murnane in the Senate, if not higher.”
Mike leaned forward and placed his hands on the dining tray table. “And what of your granddaughter? Being in a political family can be quite difficult for a child. It can affect them for the rest of their lives. Are you ready to put her in that position, without her choosing?”
Emerson placed his hands at his sides, and pushed himself up in the hospital bed. “That’s this family’s destiny. There are great benefits to serving at a high level. She’ll thank me for it one day.”
 

______________________

ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Richard Robbins' first novel, the award winning Love, Loss, and Lagniappe was inspired by actual events in his life, and utilizes his Medical and Business School background to explore the journey of self-discovery after heartbreaking loss, while revealing the scientific basis for the meaning of life (You’ll have to read it to find out!)

Panicles, explores the price of fame and fortune through the eyes of two families, one wealthy and powerful, the other blue collar, from a chance meeting at a Florida poolside, to the highest levels of politics and power. This sweeping saga of love, war, money, and power leaves each family weighing their duty to their family versus service to their country.It all leads to a fateful choice—a sacrifice—which could change the course of history.

Richard lives in New York City and New Orleans with his love and inspiration, Lisa, my wife of thirty years (and counting), near their beloved grown children.

website & Social links

Website → www.Robbinsbooks.com

Facebook →  https://www.facebook.com/richard.robbins.7737



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Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: Deja Vu at the Blue Diamond Saloon by Kathy Holmes @screamiebirds #psychological #suspense


deja vu at the Blue Diamond saloon

Kathy Holmes

* Psychological Suspense *



Title: Phantom Audition
Author: Simon Dillon
Publisher: Dragon Soul Press
Pages: 300
Genre: Psychological Thriller

Nikki Durrance escaped the worst nightmare of her life when she fled Las Vegas for San Francisco, leaving her abusive husband Jeff behind at the Blue Diamond Saloon. Rebuilding her life in San Francisco with the help of her closest friend Sally, Nikki draws the line with one thing: men. But when she accompanies Sally on a business trip back in Las Vegas, Nikki meets Dr. Mike Fischer, a sexy and desirable pediatrician also from San Francisco.

After a whirlwind courtship followed by a proposal, Nikki panics and jumps on the nearest cruise ship to Mexico. Realizing she must face her fears rather than run from them, she returns home and accepts Mike’s proposal. Life picks up even more speed with Mike’s plans and Nikki panics once again, imagining that everything Mike does mirrors her ex-husband Jeff. Attempting to sort out what’s real and what’s not, Nikki begins to question everything, including her sanity when everything with Mike feels like déjà vu.

cLICK BELOw TO ORDER YOUR COPY!

Amazon → https://amzn.to/32vYGZV

 Barnes & Noble → https://bit.ly/33yNop4

______________________

TEASER




______________________

EXCERPT

Chapter 1
Everything in Vegas Looks Better at Night

The dusty, thirsty, lifeless terrain transforms into an Alice in Twinkle land and the neon electrifies the Las Vegas Strip. The barren stretches of nothingness surrounding the valley of so-called normal life vanishes from view. But nothing is normal in a place where gambling is invasive—it’s in the grocery stores, it’s in McDonald’s, it’s in every neighborhood corner where a neon sign flashes “gambling and cocktails.”
Leo the grocer startled me when he appeared at the front door of our Las Vegas house—the one we’d dreamed of when we were squished into a tiny one-bedroom apartment in San Francisco. But that house felt like a prison with its tomb-like shades covering the windows to prevent the harsh, desert sun from scorching the inside of the house.
 When I ran downstairs to open the front door, he handed me a package of ice. Because this is how Vegas works—when you check out at the grocery store, the clerk asks if you need ice, and if you’re lucky, they’ll deliver it to you on short notice. It would be such a shame if you had the sudden urge to make a martini and be out of ice. Especially if you had a surprise guest like I did that hot August night.
I felt Jeff’s breath on my neck, the belt buckle he wore when he played Texas Hold ‘Em pushing against me, and so I pulled away and asked, “What’s the ice for?”
“Drinks with Gabrielle,” he said.
“Gabrielle?”
“Yes, she’s over there.” I looked in the direction he was pointing, as Leo drove off and a woman wearing a black leather mini-skirt and tank-top stepped out of a taxi. Wearing stilettos, she posed in such a way that time stood still, portraying an air of confidence. Stunned that he knew the half-sister I had never met; I drank in the details of her appearance. She looked nothing like she did in the picture she’d sent me–brunette with medium-length hair. Now she had pure white spiked hair, the exact color Jeff described when he insisted I bleach my almost black hair.
She approached our front door and said, “You’ve lost weight.” I’ve lost weight? What did she know about me? I’d planned on sending her my photo, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Jeff stepped forward, “Please, come in, make yourself at home.”
I fingered my wind-blown hair and glanced at my unkempt clothes. This was not how I’d imagined I’d be dressed when I met Gabrielle for the first time. My enormous closet in the master bathroom, part of an even larger master suite, full of clothes for every occasion—for golf, tennis, or evening wear at some elegant function on the Strip. Because if there was one thing true about my husband was that he loved to impress others with a well-dressed wife.
Jeff led us into the living room, moved the cat off the couch and said, “Please, sit here” to Gabrielle but then turned to me, “Shouldn’t you be getting dressed?”
I didn’t wait around long enough to see if Gabrielle sat down or not, but I heard soft laughter and ice tinkling from the kitchen. Jeff must be making his special cocktail—what he called a French Martini joking that he named it after me. Pineapple juice, vodka, Chambord, and Vermouth—” What’s so French about that?” I had asked. “Well, you are French, right?” he said, and then he threw his head back and laughed in a maniacal way, as if he knew a secret I did not know.
Uneasiness swept over me leaving Jeff and Gabrielle alone downstairs in my kitchen—the kitchen I took pride in. It was a luxury to finally own such a beautiful, brand-new home and I considered that room to be my private haven. It was where I stood each morning when I gazed at the backyard, lit with the morning desert sun, recalling a similar backyard in my California childhood.
I hurriedly dressed in a pair of black slacks and my favorite black pumps I’d found on sale at the Outlet Mall on Las Vegas Boulevard. I rummaged through the dresser drawers searching for a particular red shirt—because from the way my husband was leering at Gabrielle, I knew it was important I dress my best.
Unable to find it, I put on a black one instead, and grabbed a matching black purse. On my way downstairs I passed my upstairs office where I indulged myself in working on my latest manuscript. The words often failed me then, but when I awoke in the middle of the night to an empty bedroom, I could sit in my office and the lights of South Point Casino calmed me, reassured me. I then wrote until the sun began to peek over the mountains of Henderson in the east in that special hour where the daylight meets the neon. I jumped into bed before Jeff returned from an all-night poker game.
When I’d made my way to the living room, Jeff handed me a drink and the three of us sat down—Jeff in his leather recliner and Gabrielle in the chair next to him—the one I considered my own. I moved our cat, Sam, the name Jeff had insisted on even though he was not a cat lover. I sat down on the couch closest to Jeff as if I was competing with Gabrielle for his attention.
After a quick drink and a brief chat, Jeff suggested we all go to the Blue Diamond Saloon. “They have the best buffet,” Jeff said.
No, it wasn’t the fanciest place, like those casinos on the Strip, but it was a local hangout like so many in Vegas that served food, drinks, and of course, the ubiquitous gambling. Actually, it was a bit of a dive, but it was within walking distance from our home, and Jeff particularly enjoyed the poker games there.
Jeff said, “You two go on—I’ll catch up” so Gabrielle and I started walking toward The Blue Diamond Saloon.
Jeff caught up with us, and once we arrived, he sauntered inside as if he owned the place. When I tried to follow him, Gabrielle’s demeanor changed and she gave me a look that said, “You’re so gauche” (after all, according to the emails we’d exchanged, she'd lived in Paris) and she’d indicated she’d expected me to have done the same—with a French name like Nicole and all. But ever since she discovered I hadn’t lived in Paris, she seemed to be slightly disappointed in me. I’d hoped, perhaps, that living in Las Vegas, the “entertainment capital of the world,” would give me some caché, but this was something she dismissed—as if I hadn’t quite mastered being here.
The doorman must have felt the same way, because he refused me admission. This was too weird to even be polite, so I left, and headed for home, stopping by the shop around the front of the club. But all the red shirts cost more than I had on me, and I had left my credit cards in my other purse—the red purse.
When I arrived back home, I noticed the laptop sitting on the white wicker table next to a matching rocking chair in the front entry. When I took a closer look, I saw that the browser was open at Jeff’s poker blog—something he rarely updated. After all, I was the online multi-media professional: writer, blogger, and graphic artist. I read the entry there, with a link to a video he’d posted.
The text said, “Don’t watch unless you have the stomach for it.” So, of course, I clicked on the link. And what I saw filled me with fury, disgust, and hate. It was a video of my husband dressed in my missing red blouse and matching red shorts, with my red purse on his arm, prancing around to some seductive music. And in the background, a neon sign flashed, “The Blue Diamond Saloon.”
Early in our relationship he had revealed how he struggled with his weight when he was younger, and so he took pride in being able to wear my size twelve clothes. In spite of what the fashion industry wanted to believe, I was still below the average size fourteen that most U.S. women wore. I worked hard at keeping my weight down.
 But Gabrielle mustn’t be any larger than a size eight, my best guess after viewing Gabrielle wearing nothing but a satin black thong, matching low cut silk black bra, and Jeff’s tie. I recognized it from one of our cruises. She maneuvered a sexy move behind him, danced around him, and smiled into the camera taunting me. A swift kick to my gut told me that today was not the first time they had met.
Then he peered directly into the camera, and snarled, “This is for Sam.” And then right in front of me, in front of the camera, he started making rude fondling movements on Gabrielle’s body while she fondled him in return. I’m a voyeur as much as the next person, but I couldn’t watch anymore. And when I closed the browser window, a message written like a handwritten note said, “RIP, darling,” and then a mock newspaper headline flashed. It said, “Jealous Wife Found Dead at The Blue Diamond Saloon wearing nothing but black pumps.”
Feeling a second swift kick to my gut, I peeked in the closets, the pantry, the cabinets and the rooms upstairs to make sure nobody was in there, waiting for me. Because I was afraid that this time he would make good his idle threats and I’d be dead. Maybe not by his own hands, but I suspected he knew people in low places, and somebody someday would murder me. I’d had enough and I knew that it was up to me to remain alive, to get away before tomorrow arrived.
I may appear stupid for hanging around this long, but I wasn’t about to stay any longer, in case my luck had run out. I was afraid the next death threat, the next slap on the face, the next infidelity would mean the end of me.
At the same time, I asked myself, “Why? What did my husband have against me? What had I done to him?” The years of our marriage punched through my mind like a ticker tape, and then I knew. He had never forgiven me for not loving him as much as I had loved Sam—the one man who’d eluded me. I loved how his name rolled on my tongue—Sam, Sam Sullivan. It played the right notes to my ear like a private dick in some mystery novel. Maybe I had stayed with Jeff for so long out of guilt that somehow I deserved this mistreatment. After all, wasn’t it a sin not to love your husband more than any other man in the world?
So, Jeff taunted me, jealous of any man so much as glanced at me, paying me back by flirting with other women and inviting them to our house. And then later when we broke into the inevitable fight his mustache would curl around his lips, and he’d stare at me, and peer into my soul with those devil-green eyes and say, “I’m the best you’re ever going to have” and somehow I believed him. After all, my own father had rejected me—I couldn’t let the one man who was willing to be with me abandon me, too.
I hung on year after year until I noticed the taunts were getting more serious. And now he had gone too far. He had behaved despicably in front of my half-sister—the one person I wanted to think well of me. And it wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t been drawn into his web, making it worse until that night, after I left The Blue Diamond Saloon and found that message on his laptop.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been spurned forward to race down to The Blue Diamond Saloon to confront them—confront him, for I knew he had set it up—that he had lured her into being on his side. After all, weren’t they both jealous of me—resented me? Gabrielle, when she discovered she wasn’t her darling daddy’s only daughter, and Jeff, well, Jeff, because he couldn’t own me.
But when I got there, all mad as hell, ready to cause a scene, the doorman was off duty. I had no problem entering the place. I was armed with the ammo of my fury, but when I glanced around the room, nothing untoward was occurring anywhere. People were milling around, playing slot machines, eating, drinking. And then my eyes located Jeff and Gabrielle playing a quiet game of video poker, laughing, but looking bored. Maybe their fun had been putting on a show for me. They both glanced up and smiled innocently at me when I stood in front of them, energized by the expression on my face, as if asking for a confrontation.
And that made me even more furious. Gabrielle, I dismissed. But Jeff, oh, Jeff had it coming. I lifted my right hand, pulled back, and with all the fury of the past five cruel, miserable years, I slapped him. I slapped him hard. I slapped him so hard, blood trickled down from his lip—those full luscious lips he took such pride in. He stood up, angry, and slapped me back, “You bitch. You made my lip bleed. You’ll have to pay for that.”
But I’d had enough. I turned around and ran. I ran so fast, not stopping to see if anybody was following me. I ran back to the house, while calling a cab from my cell phone. I threw together a few of my most important items, like my red purse, but it didn’t take long because the only item of importance was me. And five minutes later when the cab arrived, I jumped in, and told the driver to take me to the airport.
“Lady, are you all right?” he asked, dodging the dozen or so Harleys that rumbled past the house. Too bad I didn’t have my own Harley so I might disappear into the desert.
“I am now,” I said as I met the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror as he peeled out, sensing my distress and urgency, as I left my past behind in the dust.
I took the first flight to San Francisco where I had lived before I met Jeff, where I hoped I still had friends. I charged the plane fare to my Visa, although I knew Jeff would be able to trace the charge and know where I had gone. But I wouldn’t worry about that now. It was important to get myself as far away from Vegas, as far away from Jeff, as far away from my past as I could.
I was burned by my past, yet hopeful that I could build a Disney World kind of life for myself. I closed that dark, dreary, scary door, and I made a vow to never open it again. From now on, people would see a strong, confident, happy, positive-thinking woman.
What I didn’t know was that as soon as you make a vow, the world will do everything in its power to tempt you into breaking it.




 

______________________


ABOUT THE AUTHOR



Kathy Holmes grew up in Southern California near Disneyland and the beach with a book in one hand and a transistor radio in the other. She began writing stories about family and wrote her first song with a childhood friend. They called themselves the “Screamie Birds.”

Books have always spurred her love for travel, especially to places she’s read about, and location is often a character in her books.

After an exciting career in Silicon Valley, she is now combining her love for both books and music at Screamie Birds Studios. You can find out more about her books and music at http://www.kathyholmes.net.

website & Social links

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Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/screamiebirds




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Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: Failure to Protect by Pamela Samuels Young


* Failure To Protect *

* Pamela Samuels Young *

* Legal Thriller *



Title: Failure To Protect
Author: Pamela Samuels Young
Publisher: Goldman House Publishing
Pages: 414
Genre: Mystery/Legal Thriller

When the classroom is no longer a safe space for her child, the outraged mother of a bullied nine-year-old is determined to seek justice for her daughter. An ambitious school principal, however, is far more concerned about protecting her career than getting to the truth. She flat out denies any knowledge of the bullying and prefers to sweep everything under the rug. But just how low will she go?

When the mother’s two hard-charging female attorneys enter the picture, they face more than an uphill battle. As the case enters the courtroom, the women fight hard to expose the truth. But will a massive coverup hinder their quest for justice?

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______________________

TEASER


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EXCERPT

Chapter 1
 "Please, Uncle Dre, let me stay home with you today. Can you homeschool me? Please!"
 Dre stroked his goatee and laughed. "Unfortunately, I'm not smart enough to homeschool you or anybody else."
 "I'm serious," Bailey pleaded, her face twisted in terror. "Please don't make me go!"
 As his Jeep inched along behind the long line of cars dropping off kids in front of Parker Elementary School, Dre peered over his shoulder at the cute little girl sitting in his back seat. Bailey's stress level was way too high. She'd had a few run-ins with a bully at her old school, but he assumed the transfer to Parker had fixed everything.
 "What's going on? Why don't you want to go to school?"
 Bailey hugged her book bag to her chest as if it were a life raft. "I just don't."
 "C'mon, talk to me. Is somebody bothering you here too?"
 After a long beat, Bailey slowly bobbed her head.
 Dre had purposely used the word bothering, not bullying. He was tired of hearing all the hoopla about bullies. Kids getting picked on was nothing new. It happened in his day and would keep happening until the end of time.
 Truth be told, today's kids were too damn soft. People turned backflips to protect them from the realities of life. Like everybody getting a freakin' trophy just for participating. That was the stupidest crap he'd ever heard. Sometimes life is hard. Kids need to know that sooner rather than later.
 "Please don't tell my mom," Bailey begged, her brown eyes glassy with tears. "She'll fuss at me for not standing up for myself."
 Dre reached back and gave Bailey's foot a playful squeeze. "No, she won't. But you do have to start standing up for yourself. If somebody's being mean to you, you have my permission to be mean right back."
 He wasn't condoning violence, but if another kid started some mess, the only way to show 'em you weren't no punk was to clap back twice as hard. Most bullies were wimps. Once you got in their face, they backed off. That's what he'd taught his son to do and, to his knowledge, Little Dre had never had a problem. He would teach Bailey to do the same.
 "You don't get it," Bailey huffed, her shoulders drooping. "That won't help."
 They were almost at the drop-off point, when Dre steered his Jeep out of the line of cars and made a hasty U-turn in the middle of the street.
 Bailey's upper body sprang forward. "We're going home?"
 "Nope." Dre pulled to a stop along the curb. "I'm walking you inside. I want you to show me who's messing with you."
 Bailey slumped back against the seat, her lips protruding into a pout. "That'll just make it worse."
 Turning off the engine, Dre hopped out and jogged around to open the back door. "Let's go."
 He took Bailey's hand as they stepped into the crosswalk. The closer they got to the school doors, the slower Bailey walked. By the time they reached the entrance, Dre felt like he was tugging a sixty-pound bag of potatoes.
 "Please, Uncle Dre," Bailey whispered, glancing all around. "Please don't make me go!" Her tiny hand clutched two of his fingers.
 Dre led Bailey off to the side, squatted until they were at eye level, and caressed her shoulders.
 "I don't know what's going on, but there's no reason for you to be this stressed out about going to school. If somebody's messing with you, I need to know about it. What's the kid's name?"
 Bailey hung her head as a tear slid down her right cheek. For a second, Dre thought she was about to come clean.
 "It doesn't matter," she mumbled, hoisting her book bag higher on her shoulder.
 "Yes, it—"
 Bailey jerked away from him and dashed inside the school.
 He was about to go after her when a woman stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
 "May I help you, sir?"
 The woman's chin jutted forward like an accusing finger pointing him out in a lineup. "And you are?"
 "I'm Bailey's"—he paused—"uh, I'm Bailey's godfather." He'd started to introduce himself as her uncle to make himself sound more legit but changed his mind.
 "Your name?" Her tone conveyed all the warmth of an icicle.
 "Andre Thomas."
 Dre pegged the woman to be in her early forties. Her thick, black hair fell a couple of inches below her ears in a blunt cut that matched her funky disposition. Her sleeveless, form-fitting, red dress hugged every inch of her curvy frame. Actually, she was kinda hot. Kerry Washington’s classy style with Cookie Lyon's bad attitude.
 "Bailey's mother didn't tell us someone else would be bringing her to school today."
 She looked him up and down like he was some pedophile on the prowl for a new victim.
 Dre couldn't seem to pull his eyes away. Despite an innate seductiveness, the woman still managed to carry herself with the spit-shine polish of a CEO. If professionalism had a smell, she would reek.
 "Erika had an early meeting in Irvine and asked me to drop her off."
 Dre ran a hand over his shaved head. Rarely did anybody—especially a female—make him feel this degree of uneasiness. "I'm sorry. I didn't get your name."
 "I'm the principal. Darcella Freeman."
 He should've guessed. A sister with a little power.
"I'll be dropping Bailey off and picking her up from time to time," Dre said, anxious for the chick to move out of his way so he could go after Bailey. "Erika got a big promotion. Her job's a lot more demanding now."
 "Is that right?"
 "Yep, that's right." What's up with this chick?
 "Please ask Bailey’s mother to email the office authorizing you to pick her up from school."
 Dre nodded. "Will do."
 He still wanted to go inside, but the woman stayed put like a queen guarding the gates of her castle.
 Without saying goodbye, Dre pivoted and headed back across the street. As he opened the door to his Jeep, he made a mental note to have a talk with Erika. She'd been thrilled about getting Bailey into Parker Elementary because of its stellar reputation. But the place might not be any better for Bailey than her old school.
 Dre also couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. And not just with Bailey.
 

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TEASER



ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Award-winning author and attorney Pamela Samuels Young writes mysteries that matter. Dubbed “John Grisham with a sister’s twist” by one reviewer, Pamela’s fast-paced novels often tackle important social issues.

Her most recent legal thriller, Failure to Protect, takes on the bullying epidemic and its devastating aftermath. Pamela won the prestigious NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Fiction for her thriller Anybody’s Daughter, which provides a realistic look inside the world of child sex trafficking. Her courtroom drama Abuse of Discretion centers around a troubling teen sexting case. #Anybody’s Daughter and #Abuse of Discretion are young adult editions of the two books. A young adult version of Failure to Protect goes on sale in December 2019.

Pamela also writes dangerously sassy romantic suspense under the pen name Sassy Sinclair. Her first foray into the romance genre, Unlawful Desires (2017), was awarded Best Erotic Romance by Romance Slam Jam. Her second book, Unlawful Seduction (2018), was honored as a finalist in Romance Writers of America/Passionate Ink’s Passionate Plume contest in the Best Contemporary Erotica category.

The prolific writer is a frequent speaker on the topics of sex trafficking, bullying, online safety, fiction writing, self-empowerment, and pursuing your passion. To invite Pamela to your book club meeting or to read excerpts of her books, visit www.pamelasamuelsyoung.com and www.sassysinclair.com .

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